Neurolink System in the Modern World

The corridor had transformed into a gruesome place, littered with the lifeless bodies of gangsters who lay sprawled across the floor, their corpse marked by the chilling sight of blood splattering the walls and floor.

The furniture and fixtures lay in shattered pieces all around, scattered without order. The bodyguards, facing dire circumstances, had ingeniously transformed these broken remnants, employing whatever they could grab to get an advantage against the enemy.

Tables were upturned, and the corridor decor was in disarray. Cheap paintings crashed to the floor, their frames splintering on impact, as the bodyguards scrambled to solidify their position.

"What the hell is happening here?" one of the guards grumbled in frustration, wiping his knife clean after finishing off yet another gangster. "Why the hell do they keep coming at us like suicidal idiots?"

"I don't know, but these idiots keep charging at us like they're out of their minds," another guard replied. They had initially expected a gunfight, but to their surprise, none of the attackers had used firearms, despite the fact that they were armed.

What made the situation even more confusing was the fact that these attackers didn't stop their attacks unless they were killed. They tried to knock them out without causing serious harm, but it didn't work at all.

"Let's get out of this weird place , I don't feel good about this," The ex-military spoke. He had been in weird situation before and his sense has been highten. Deep inside him , he knew that something was really wrong. He could tell from the faces of those he killed right now that they they did not even show a hint of fear when he stabbed them.

It was truly perplexing. Normally, when people face a life-threatening situation, they instinctively try to protect themselves.

Even if they couldn't react in time, they would still make some effort to avoid danger, like trying to block a knife or shielding their face if shot at. But these gangsters didn't show any of these usual reactions. They didn't even flinch in the face of imminent danger, making their behavior all the more confusing.

*STEP

*STEP

*STEP

They communicated silently to each other, moving with caution as they made their way to the stairs leading to the second floor. As anticipated, they encountered further resistance, but it was oddly consistent.

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Once again, the attackers refrained from using firearms and seemed to come in smaller numbers, almost as if they intended to let them escape.

The guards, now armed with knives, exploited the uneven terrain of the staircase to their advantage. As they defended themselves, they immediately realized the potential of using the elevation changes to their benefit. One of the guards, quick on their feet, saw an opportunity.

With a swift kick, they used the higher ground to send an attacker tumbling backward, creating distance between them. Another guard followed suit, sending a well-placed kick to disarm an assailant, sending the knife clattering down the stairs.

These tactics allowed the guards to momentarily gain the upper hand, using their surroundings to kill off the attackers.

"Boss , don't worry we can handle this ," One of the guards spoke with confidence .

"I knew you could," the old man chuckled.

He had invested substantial amount of money in assembling this team, comprised of former soldiers and mercenaries. In terms of sheer lethality, they were even more formidable than Damien.

While Damien relied on his brute strength and combat abilities, these guards were trained to eliminate threats with ruthless efficiency. Their methods were calculated and precise, making them a formidable force to contend with.

As they reached the stairs leading down to the first floor, they came to a sudden halt when they spotted a lone figure waiting for them. The individual bore the look of a typical gangster, but what set him apart was his muscular build.

"I've got this," the ex-military guard sneered with contempt, tightening his grip on his knife and dashing forward with lethal intent.

As he closed in on his target, he abruptly altered the rhythm of his approach, aiming to catch the enemy off guard by slowing down. Then with a swift motion, he attempted a neck strike.

"Too slow," the gangster smiled, demonstrating his agility by twisting his neck to avoid the oncoming blade.

In a fluid motion, he countered with an uppercut that shot up from below, like a coiled spring suddenly released.

The ex-military guard, recognizing his blunder, managed to evade the uppercut, jumping backwards to create some distance.

However, his break was short-lived. The gangster closed the gap with astonishing speed, and unleashed a ferocious onslaught of punches and kicks. Each blow landed with bone-rattling force, turning the guard's desperate retreat into a harrowing struggle for survival.

*BANG!

A gunshot pierced the air, abruptly ending the intense struggle as the ex-military guard could no longer endure the relentless assault.

"Damn it! Where did this monster come from?" he cursed aloud, his breath ragged.

The person he had just fought proved to be too strong for a normal gangster, possessing a strength and skill that rivaled that of an elite soldier.

"We need to hurry up," he declared urgently. With his command, the group pressed on, battling their way through the relentless attackers until they finally reached the outside .

Fortunately, they didn't encounter another fighter with the same formidable combat skills as the previous gangster.

Finally, they managed to escape through the back door. Their breaths were heavy, but they didn't stop, knowing they needed to reach their car as quickly as possible and get out of that dangerous place.

Thankfully, they no longer encountered any resistance outside, allowing them to reach their car safely.

"Boss, we're safe now!" They collectively sighed in relief once they were inside the car, which was bulletproof and provided them with a sense of security.

"Good job, everyone," the old man chuckled heartily.

"So where are we heading next?" the guard who was now on the driver sit asked.

"Back home," the old man answered.

"Alright, boss," the guard acknowledged and pressed the pedal, guiding the car onto the road.

As they passed a black sedan, the old man's eyes fell on it, and a wide grin spread across his face.